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I used to be at Moody Bible Institute several times a year to do some radio programs, and I was usually there on a weekend. Now, Moody is right in the heart of Chicago. If you are in the heart of any big city, you've got to think security, especially on the weekend when a lot of things are closed and there's no one working. You don't want people just wandering around your buildings then.
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One of the great chapters in the history of the modern church has been the Billy Graham crusades, reaching millions of people around the world. We were preparing for one in our area, and it was amazing to watch the Billy Graham Crusade Team move in to help us organize what was an unprecedented effort. One of our first jobs was a pretty practical one. The setup team needed housing for the year. A lot of people had ideas of what kind of places the team members should live in, but the Crusade Team, they had experience. They knew what it took to come in for a year.
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I guess I'm just too sensitive. I feel guilty when I walk in a store, knowing I'm not going to buy anything. And some bored salesperson sees me come in, and then you see that look of hope, that look of expectancy on their face, "At last I can justify my existence. At last I've got a customer! At last I can accomplish something. At last I can sell something." And so they very pleasantly ask, "May I help you?" And then come those two most hated words to the ears of a salesperson, "Just looking." Suddenly they lose all interest in me and they retire dejectedly back to their corner. Did I say I'm too sensitive? Well, I'll tell you this, nobody ever gets very excited about someone who is just looking.
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I think my son was about four the first time we played baseball together, and I taught him with a plastic Wiffle bat and Wiffle ball. I remember telling him rule number one of baseball even then, and really of other sports too. I said, "Now, son, keep your eye on the ball." Well, I've told him that lots of times over his growing up years, and it wasn't always about baseball. Whenever he's had trouble with his hitting, though, which today really isn't very often, it usually was because he wasn't watching where he should be.
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Every once in a while the monotony of driving the Interstate is broken by some interesting signs. Sometimes I'll see one and my mind will get going, and it will process what I saw and I'll think about it for several minutes. I remember one in particular. There was a big, old truck speeding down the Interstate and it had in bold letters this sign: "Guaranteed Destruction of Confidential Files and Records." Well, that got me going! There was also a phone number. I didn't write it down; I didn't actually have any need for their services. But there was a number to call if you wanted all your confidential things destroyed. I thought about who might want a service such as that. I brainstormed some intriguing reasons and some intriguing people who might want to call that number. Guaranteed destruction! Actually, there's another sign that interests us even more.
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Sometimes I wish it were in my power to get every church youth group in America to go on a missions' trip. Something unusual happens when some all-American kids suddenly get plunged into another culture to do some work in Jesus' name. It does something for the people they go to help, but I think it does more for the kids who are doing the helping. I heard a local youth group report on their trip to Mexico. Basically they had all of their support stripped away from them while they were there. It was a language they weren't accustomed to, the money was different, they didn't have the comforts they were used to, they had some spiders hanging over them as they slept at night which they for the most part don't have at home. They had unfamiliar food. The customs were things they weren't used to.
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Most of the major milestones in college revolve around a little four-letter word. Maybe you remember; maybe you're experiencing it now. The word - exam. My wife and I ended up in some classes together while we were in college before we were married, and that meant we ended up being stressed out at exactly the same time, sharing the same questions, the same challenges. But it was after the exam that the differences we had really surfaced because we handled the exam aftermath differently.
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I hate to be late for a wedding, but I was. I had a carload of teenagers going with me to this wedding, and we were racing to get there by 11:00 A.M. Finally, after I came to a juncture I said, "Wait a minute! Which church is it at?" I'd left my invitation at home. I said, "Oh, I know where it is."
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When I go to the doctor, he sure is inquisitive. I tell him, "I feel sick!" And he insists on getting all the details: What's your temperature, tell me about your symptoms, what about your throat? Let's check your throat. I mean sometimes he even resorts to a blood test. How radical! And if it's serious enough, we even have to get into my mother's health and my father's health, and my family history. Actually, I'd be wise to give the doctor all the specifics I can think of. If I just walk in and say, "I'm sick", that doesn't do much. It's really tough to help someone when they're not specific about what's going on.
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Okay, here's the scene: My wife and I are sitting together on an airplane. I'm busy working, trying to be a good time manager; getting my work done on my way to Chicago. And my wife has headphones on listening to whatever program happened to be on the stereo system, and she's laughing out loud. You know how frustrating that is? I'm trying to get work done and she's ho, ho, ho, ho! Listen, that drives you crazy when you don't know what somebody's laughing at.
